


Prompt: Mad

by folliesandfictions



Series: The Fan Shop [4]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 04:45:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8608525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/folliesandfictions/pseuds/folliesandfictions





	

Combeferre was late.

Joly sat in their usual booth, nursing a mug that was more cream than coffee and trying to focus on the papers spread out in front of him with little success. As the minutes ticked by the furrow of his brow only deepened; it wasn’t like Combeferre to be so unpunctual, and the fact that he hadn’t even bothered to text ahead only served to worry Joly further.

He was saved from any further panic by something of a commotion in the doorway. Glancing up he saw two familiar figures, their voices raised loudly enough for those at the nearest tables to shoot them puzzled glances.

“Forget it, Bahorel! We are not discussing this further!” Combeferre stormed over to the table, looking madder than Joly had ever seen him; the colour had risen in his face and his eyes were alight with something akin to fire. “Tell him that he’s wrong.” Combeferre jabbed a finger in the direction of Bahorel, who was trying very hard to surpress his laughter.

Joly frowned. “You’re gonna have to give me a little more to go on, Ferre.”

“He said Martha was a terrible companion.”

“Not terrible,” Bahorel muttered as he sprawled onto the seat, “she’s just kind of whiny and mopey all the time.” Joly opened his mouth to point out that he had said exactly the opposite last week, but at a conspiratorial wink from the man sat across from him he thought better of it.

“Seriously? Seriously? That’s it. This weekend you are coming to mine and we are having a Martha Jones Appreciation Day and you are not leaving until you are convinced otherwise.” With that, a still-fuming Combeferre stomped over to the counter to buy ice cream (which struck Joly as the world’s least effective manner of sulking).

Bahorel grinned at Joly, looking as though he had won some kind of battle only he knew about. The two of them sat quietly for a moment - one triumphant, the other pensive - until Joly piped up: “How long do you think it’ll take him to realise you tricked him into asking you on a date?”

Bahorel only smiled wider.


End file.
